And then they were off again....

So, after a week of the sort of blissful deprivation that stressed, suited, executive types pay a lot of money for we were home. Filled with ideas and plans and a new found gratitude and respect for the humble electric light switch we grasped tightly our newly devised timetable which would show us the way to health and happiness and steer us gently away from the land of chaos and disarray that we had been lost in. Order, organisation, routine were our new friends.


Oh how boring it sounds but how good it felt to know what we were doing again. To live life with a plan, a direction. No more waking up when we felt like it, spending half the day in pyjamas, forgetting to eat lunch and working until midnight; that life had been like a drug habit, memories of the early days we spent lying in bed until midday, eating when and if it occurred to us, staying up half the night, getting dressed once a week were much more exhilarating than the effect it was having on us now. Now that we are Old. For that I suspect is what it has come down to. At the meagre ages of 23 and 27 respectively, we are old bastards and we need a routine.


Of course that routine lasted all of two days for a mere 48 hours later we were off again. This time on an altogether different sort of holiday, back to the town we abandoned a little over two years ago and a wonderfully comfortable penthouse with central heating, running hot water, hardwood floors too slippery for rabbit paws, patio doors leading from every room to wrap around balconies and a (quite literally) million dollar view.

Don't be silly, it's not our Luxury Penthouse; it belongs to The Inlaws who are off to the Caribbean for a month, leaving behind one empty and very enticing house and one 94 year old Grandfather in need of company and Christmas dinner.


So here we are, in our old city planning not only our first married Christmas but the first Christmas dinner that we have ever cooked together. For we are hosting Christmas this year and it's really quite a scary prospect. Me, my new husband, my mum, my husband's cousin and his dear grandfather will gather round a table that doesn't belong to a single one of us and eat a meal cooked by two young 'uns who don't have a clue what they're doing, who are the pair that tie this motley but much loved crew together.


Presents will be opened under a weird, spiky palm tree thing decorated with fairy lights because I couldn't bring myself to buy a Christmas tree for someone else's house and then we will gather around the computer screen to watch the eagerly awaited Wallace and Gromit Christmas special.


Perhaps we will ruminate on the fact that this is our first Christmas together, perhaps we will ponder what Christmas memories we might make in the future but I suspect that it is more likely that we will eat cake for breakfast, throw wrapping paper at each other, feed banana to the rabbits, get sweaty and stressed cooking Christmas dinner, eat too much then fall asleep on the sofa too damn tired to ruminate on anything.


Then, just this once because it's Christmas, we will let ourselves sleep right through our new routine, waking up when we please, getting dressed if we feel like it and eating whatever and whenever the sweet baby Jesus we want. Just for one day though, because on the 27th it is home and on the 28th back to work, back to the timetable, back to routine and all of this, all of this last month, this last year perhaps, will feel like a strange dream. One of those dreams that you can't quite put your finger on, that you couldn't quite put into words but that you wake up from with a smile on your lips, feeling inspired and optimistic and ready to face the day ahead and all the sweet potential that it holds.

Merry Christmas dear friends and readers. May your day be filled with love and contentment and all the joys that the festive season might bring.


Beautiful and inspiring images courtesy of -1. Tae*; 2. Rosiehardy;